Reflections
by Melly Bean88
Summary: GinDra R As Ginny struggles with leading the life of a normal teenager she is plagued by an unrelenting set of dreams that don't belong to her. An adventure that leaks into the time of The Founders and an attraction that isn't hers, or is it?
1. Dreams and Letters

**Disclaimer:** Um...all I have to say is that J.K. Rowling is THE GODESS OF ALL! BOW DOWN! clears throat um...ya lol

**Summary(the one that wouldn't fit in the story summary part lol): **As Ginny struggles with normal life as a teenage witch, she is also burdened by a plague of unsettling dreams that have no meaning to her. She writes them off as harmless, but quickly learns that Draco Malfoy is having very similar dreams as her and that they don't even belong to them. In fact, they aren't dreams at all, they are actually brief images of the past of two certain people and it seems that history is doomed to repeat itself without Ginny and Draco even realizing it. An Adventure that leaks into the time of The Founders and involves an intense attraction and love that doesn't belong to them...or maybe it does.

**A/N:** So I'm going to try to return to writing and this was a favorite of mine, so I'm starting here. Be kind, it's been a while. I'm revamping the chapters and reposting them, then I'll continue from there. Oh, the spelling and grammar errors! UGH!

_Emeralds. Lush grass swaying in the wind like the sea. A four-leaf clover. A serpent ring. An endearing smile. Green. Green that encompasses the vision and caresses the skin like satin. Calming and beautifully graceful. Then a pain in the heart that engulfs and burns outward from inside, leaving an empty ache, "My Love...don't leave me!"_

Waking with a start, Ginny sits upright suddenly. Panting, she looks around quickly before shakily dropping back onto the mattress with a sigh of relief. She's still breathing quickly and isn't surprised at the realization that she has broken into a cold sweat in her sleep. It's been happening more and more frequently since her first year.

It was a dream that was confusing and mixed in with her Tom Riddle nightmares quite often. At first, the Tom Riddle nightmares stayed at the forefront, beating out the confusing dream in number of occurrences easily, as it was every night that she experienced it, while the confusing dream happened about once a month.

Then the Riddle nightmares died out slowly, as it began to sink in that Tom was gone for good, and the strange dream would continue to make an appearance about once a month. During this time she would remember nothing but brief and fleeting images that disappeared from memory almost immediately.

Then, just last year, they became more frequent and she began marking the dates that they occurred in her journal, she even wrote what she could remember of them. First it was almost every two weeks, then it was practically weekly. They would sporadically ease up for a while, but only to return in full force. In the duration of this summer they had disappeared completely for almost a month and then they returned so fiercely that they were occurring just about every other night. She wasn't quite sure whether to be worried or not.

As she looks at herself in the mirror, brushing her teeth, she tries to rationalize that it's just a dream and it's not really that bad, but then she realizes she's going into her 6th year now. Six years of the same nightmare can't be normal or healthy. They aren't really nightmares, at least they never start that way, but it's the ending that makes her wake up in a cold sweat with fresh tears running down her cheeks. It's been happening so often that she's no longer alarmed by these things; almost like she's used to them. Standing back and looking at it objectively, Ginny thinks that they don't do any harm other than giving her a rude awakening in the morning. She still gets plenty of sleep and, after the shock passes, she's not any worse for wear.

It's with this comforting thought that the youngest Weasley puts a smile on her face and walks out of the bathroom to get some breakfast.

Ginny sits at the table in the kitchen beside Ron who is currently eyeing his mother's cooking hungrily, and across from her father who is currently hidden behind his latest copy of 'The Daily Prophet'. Looking closer Ginny can see that the front page depicts a very indignant and dangerous looking Lucius Malfoy as a few Aurors enter his home cautiously. Beside the foreboding man stands (to Ginny's surprise) a smirking Draco Malfoy. The young blond seems mildly entertained by the events at hand and the animated picture shows him shifting his weight to his left foot while running his fingers through his hair casually. This look of the mostly uninterested young man contrasts starkly with the uptight and disgruntled looking Lucius Malfoy who seems oblivious to his son's behaviour. She's able to catch the headline just barely before her father begins folding the paper back up: "Search of Malfoy Home Unsuccessful"

"There you go, my dears," says a smiling and busy looking Mrs. Weasley as she deposits a rather hefty looking pile of pancakes onto the table. This is quickly followed by an almost equally as alarming amount of toast and bacon before the plump woman takes her seat beside her husband.

_Some people talk out their woes, my mother cooks out hers,_ thinks Ginny with the shadow of a smile.

She takes some bacon, a couple pieces of toast and a few pancakes, even though she's pretty sure she won't eat it all. Her mother seems to be having problems adjusting to a family of four after so many years of at least 5 children at her table, along with her husband. This explains the large amounts of food and her mother's tendency to get overly upset at the departure of her children, even if they are only going out into the garden. Ginny wasn't looking forward to their departure at the train platform, especially seeing as it's Ron's last year and he'll be leaving the house soon as well.

Her fork-full of pancake pauses mid-way to her mouth as she realizes that their departure date is next week. Wondering idly at how fast the time flies, the fork makes it's destination and she chews thoughtfully on the sweet and fluffly pancake before swallowing. A glance towards her brother shows her that he is taking full advantage of the overflow of food as he practically shovels the food into his mouth happily. With an inward chuckle Ginny wonders (and not for the first time and definitely not for the last) where her brothers put it all.

Before Ginny's even finished her pancakes her brother has demolished a sizable feast and is sitting back looking comfortably full. "Thanks, mum," he says quickly as he is about to leave the kitchen.

"Hold on dear! I wanted to ask you if Harry has decided to join us to do all your school shopping," She says hastily while she still has his attention, knowing how hard it is to keep.

"Oh ya! He said that he'd definitely like to come. He'll meet us there," he says with a grin on his face that he reserves exclusively for Harry (or for talking about Harry).

Ginny smiles slightly, thinking of her own best friend and that she probably has a smile for him too. Her and Colin had met in her first year, soon after his encounter with the basilisk, for which she still felt immense guilt for, no matter how many times he tells her it's not her fault. They had become best friends almost instantly and have been attached at the hip ever since.

Mumbling a quick "Thanks" to her mum, Ginny leaves the kitchen to grab her journal. A glance out the living room window tells her that it's beautiful out and therefor a perfect day to go up on the hill and write about her dream.

_T__o My Fiery Little Redhead,_

_I've just gotten home from summer hols and I'm already being whisked away to get school supplies. What's a guy gotta do to get some rest around here? Well, anyways, we're heading out tomorrow so I was wondering if you wanted to meet at the usual place to get a cone after we shop. I'm sure you can shake off the family for five minutes to spend time with your best friend. I can't wait to see how you've changed over the summer, you said your hair's a lot longer, right? I'm sure you look like a new woman, it is our sixth year after all._

_Speaking of, any new interests? I still can't believe you've let go of your life long crush on the boy wonder. It's just so weird not to hear you drooling over him in your letters. I'm glad your still friends though, that means I can still get close enough to get good pictures he he he, just kidding. I hear that Dean's sorta interested. He's a nice guy, you should look into him._

_Well, I should be off. I need sleep, I'm knackered. I'll tell you about my vacation tomorrow or at school._

_From The Cutest Guy You Know,_

_Colin_

Ginny chuckles slightly. She always loves Colin's letters and this one is particularly excited sounding as their time together at school quickly approaches. He always does get a little over-excited about seeing her and going to school. So it's with a smile that she folds up the letter and writes back:

_To The Boy With The Biggest Ego In The World,_

_I'm sure your hols were brilliant! I can't wait to hear about it. Did you get to see Charlie? Actually, you probably didn't, did you? Not unless you were looking for a dragon resort to hang at. As for that ice cream, I'd love to. I can't wait to tell you about my oh-so-exciting summer and I really haven't changed that much. No need for flattery, I already love you to death! _

_Oh, maybe I should watch what I say, I may be feeding that huge ego of yours. I swear, it'll take over the world one day._

_Nah, no knew interests. When I go away for summer hols, I always seem to be closed off from society. As for the boy wonder, yes we are friends, but don't bother him with pictures, you know how he hates it. He's actually coming shopping with us. I would invite him for ice cream, but I'm pretty sure that him and Ron are married and are going to be doing their own thing with Hermione. You know how it is with those three._

_Lastly, I'm not so sure me and Dean are really a good match. He seems sort of dim-witted, no offense to him, but he seems only able to speak about Quidditch and although I love the sport, he may ruin it for me. I shall thank my ever-faithful match-maker anyways though. So, thank you, but you know your the only man for me Colin Creevey ha ha._

_From Your Loving Match-ee,_

_Ginny_

It's with the lightest of hearts that Ginny folds up the letter and sends it off with Fledge (their new owl, dad said that they needed something a little more reliable, but they still had pig around). Then she sighs and leans back in the soft grass of what's recently become "her hill". It's sort of picturesque with one solitary oak tree at the top of the hill and a view that consisted of the rolling hills of the beautiful countryside.

Reaching to her left she pulls her journal up to her chest and hugs it to her, thinking of the dream again. She sits up and scoots back so that her back is against the tree. Her fingers quickly find her page and she rereads the words she's written down.

_Another dream: Lots of green again, happiness, then pain_

Other than that, she wasn't sure what to write and it didn't help that that was all that she could remember now. She sighs again, but this time with a heaviness that belies her worry. Her mind races through the usual questions: Where did the dreams come from? What do they mean? Why do I never remember them? Could they really just be harmless? Why me?

"GINNY!"

She snaps her head up from her journal to see her brother calling from the bottom of the hill. From the broom in his hand and the way he's motioning her to come down with the other hand, she can tell he wants to practice quidditch.

"Perfect," She mutters cheerily, "Something to get my mind off of things."

Quickly, she closes her journal, grabs her quill from behind her ear and rushes down the hill to meet Ron. The evening is filled with so much quidditch that Ginny, for the time being, forgets about the dream and she's able to eat dinner without questions plaguing her thoughts. She even gets to bed with a peaceful mind (after fighting playfully with Ron for the bathroom to brush their teeth) and drifts off completely unaware that some one else out there shares her symptoms.


	2. Dreams and Hard Decisions

"We are Godzilla – You are Japan" by Lostprophets

"Start Somthing" by Lostprophets

**A/N:**Those are two songs that I listened to over and over while writing this chapter lol. I think they suite his current state of mind.

**Disclaimer:** Um...all I have to say is that J.K. Rowling is THE GODESS OF ALL! BOW DOWN! -clears throat- um...ya lol

**A/N #2:** All the above notes were part of the original document, I thought I'd keep them for sentimental reasons. I even listened to the songs while I edited this chapter. I also wanted to add that this is all AU. In my world, Voldemort was defeated in Harry's 6th year, not 7th, making that Ginny's 5th. Fred didn't die because...well, fuck that, that's why! Draco went through all the same thing (forced to help, etc.) and is therefor rather broken and bitter, but with the dark lord gone, he's taking some pleasure in his father's fall from grace in society's eyes.

* * *

_Red and gold. __A private moment, heated and full of fiery passion. __Soft, long hair the color of the sky at sunrise. __Warmth that gets into the heart and soul, flowing gently through his veins. __A sense of peace and acceptance. __Suddenly, rage and anger.__ Regret that burns through him like quicksilver. A gentle whisper that no one hears, "…I love you."_

"Young master! Wake up!"

Bleary eyes open to reveal the vision of a concerned house elf. A groan escapes the lips of the young blond boy as he rolls over, pulling the blanket over his head to ward off the sun and successfully knocking the poor elf to the ground. The elf in question quickly lifts herself off the ground, concern still etched into her tiny features.

"You must wake up, young master. Young master gaves Debsy quite a fright with all the tossing and turning and yelling that he was doing. Debsy must be sure of the young master's well being!" She squeaks insistently as she tries desperately to see the face hidden beneath the blankets, but seems too afraid to remove said blankets.

Fortunately, one eye is revealed, his raised brow just visible, "I was yelling?"

The house elf nods emphatically, which warrants a sigh from him, "Well, I'm fine, Debsy, don't worry."

This is enough to make the visibly tense house elf relax slightly and cheerfully announce that it is time for his breakfast anyways. The blanket immediately drops again and it takes about 15 minutes of the house elf's coaxing before Draco Malfoy emerges with tussled platinum hair and a half-lidded expression. Once she sees this, she is out the door before Draco can ask what he was yelling in his sleep.

* * *

Breakfast is in the dining room, as always, and, just like always, he is alone. His mercury eyes glide up the stretch of the oak table and a sigh catches in his throat; A Malfoy is never lonely.

He slowly eats his pancakes and bacon and his mind wonders to the nightmares. It's always the same and yet he usually remembers very little. Every time he tries to write an account of the dream, he looks at what he has written with frustration etched across his face knowing that there's more; there's so much more.

Concerned is an understatement when it comes to how Draco feels about these dreams, but to bother his mother (or, merlin forbid, his father) with such a problem is not an option. It sounded ridiculous when he said it out loud anyways. _Poor little Draco, are these mean dreams bothering you?_ He thinks to himself. Well…in all honesty, yes.

He vaguely remembers having the same dreams start somewhere just before his second year. They were harmless; he actually rarely experienced them and just brushed them off like most nightmares. They increased in number within the summer though and it's becoming unsettling to say the least. Not to mention that he usually almost always wakes up multiple times throughout the night now because of them. It's ruining his beauty sleep and frankly, they're putting him in a foul mood.

Not that his foul mood is coming entirely from the nightmares; his father could have something to do with it too.

_"Young Master, Master __Malfoy__ would like to speak with you."_

_Draco sighs and sets aside his letter to his mother, rising from his seat to meet his father in his study. She is visiting friends in Paris and writes often to check up on __how everything is. Draco is always the one to write back as his father is always 'too busy'. He doesn't mind though, even if they aren't the closest of families (this though almost makes him laugh) he is rather fond of his mother. His father always tells him that love is a weakness, so whenever he asks why he writes to her Draco just says that it'll keep her from writing more often in worry._

_"Yes, Father__."__ H__e says politely, like he has since he can remember._

_His father looks up from something he's working on and nods towards a chair in front of his desk, "Take a seat."_

_Draco obliges and waits patiently as his father finishes something. The silence is normal, a sort of ritual when he talks with his father and he's sure it's because his father is calculating exactly how to say something. After a few minutes of this cold silence, __Lucius__ finally puts down his quill and looks up at his son, his fingers __steepled__ in a way that tells Draco that he's ready to talk business._

_"You are going to be finishing school this year," he says, dull blue eyes locked onto bright mercury ones._

_Draco does nothing to respond, knowing it's more of a statement than anything and that his father will get to his point in a moment. __There is a short pause then he continues._

_"You know that after school, I __was__ hoping that you would choose an appropriate wife."  
_

_Draco schools his emotions and merely nods in understand. This is not a choice that Draco has, it is a fact that his father is presenting to him. It's almost like a dare to defy him. This is mainly because Draco refused to choose a wife until he had finished his schooling. He had been sure that, given the Dark Lord's presence in their lives and even their home would mean he would probably not live long enough to have to fulfill this particular Malfoy obligation__. Of course, Potter had ruined all that. Now the Dark Lord was gone and he and his father were still here, along with his familial obligations. Bearing the Malfoy name meant achieving the best standings in all school exams, make connections with the right sort of people, marry a woman from a respectable, pure-blooded family, inherit the fortune, and produce heirs. That's what he had been bred for, but now, after everything, it left a bitter taste in his mouth. He feels as if he's served enough.  
_

_Another long moment of silence follows and Lucius sits back in his high-backed, leather chair, "I've noticed you spending a lot of time with the Parkinson girl. She would be perfectly acceptable for carrying on the Malfoy name."  
_

_That name doesn't hold much weight now, but his father still clings to it's importance. Draco knows better than to argue though and simply replies, "Yes, well, I'm not sure about her just yet, Father."  
_

_"Now is not the time for caution, Draco." He stands and walks towards a window close to his desk to look out over the grounds, "Her mother has owled me recently, inviting us to tea and I believe we should go."_

_"Whatever you think is best, Father," an automatic reply, said with a cold, uncaring voice.  
_

It had been a very unpleasant meeting with his father, even more unpleasant than the time he had failed to befriend Potter in their first year. Draco almost cringes at the memory; he couldn't remember a time when he had been in more pain. Only, then it had been humiliation and now it's only frustration. What can he do? The name Malfoy has lost weight in society, yes, but they still have money, plenty of it. Parkinson would jump at the chance to marry him and the thought makes him ill.

Draco doesn't finish even half his breakfast, but he pulls away from the table and begins the walk back to his chambers. The house elf hurriedly cleans up his breakfast dishes and rushes to catch up with the brooding blond.

"Young Master, your mother has told Debsy to remind you that you must go to Diagon Alley soon."

Draco pauses mid-step in surprise, _Is__ it already that close to school? _He turns around to look down at the elf.

"How many days until I leave for Hogwarts, Debsy?"

"Why, only 12, young master," she says with wide, confused eyes, "Surely you didn't forgots. You're always so happy to go to Hogwarts, sir."

Draco looks down at the ground frowning. _How have I lost track of the days like that?_ He thinks to himself while the elf in front of him looks on in concern once more. Noticing the expression Draco just waves his hand dismissively at her.

"Don't worry about it, Debsy, I just needed a reminder. Thank you for passing on the message," he says quickly as he turns and continues walking to his room.

The elf's large eyes well with tears from the gratitude and she quickly runs up to her master, hugging his legs. This, of course, impedes his walk and he sighs as he curses himself. He always does tend to forget how the house elf takes gratitude. He looks down at Debsy who looks back up at him with large glassy eyes.

"No, no, young master, thank you! Young master is so kind to Debsy, so kind," she practically sobs out, "Can Debsy start packing for the trip back to school?"

He thinks about it for a second, then nods, smirking slightly as the house elf squeals in glee, apparating to his rooms, no doubt, with a pop. Draco sighs, shaking his head, and starts walking again, his mind still running. What is he going to do about his father? He can't run away, they'd find him in no time, but can he stay?

Once he reaches his rooms, he sits in an oversized armchair with his legs thrown carelessly over one arm of it. His eyes stare into the fire momentarily, his mind going blank as he watches the flames dance. Something about it is comforting, but he's not sure why. When he finally rips his eyes from the fireplace, he pulls back the sleeve on his right arm, exposing his forearm. His fingers slide over the ugly mark there and he tries to imagine the skin the way it was before. He frowns slightly as he thinks of it and groans, roughly pulling the sleeve back down and laying his head back against the chair. There's no way out of it…Draco Malfoy will choose a wife by the end of the year.

* * *

**A/N:** I tried to mirror the first and second chapters as much as possible to really show the contrasting of their lives. One is loved, well fed, and has good friends/family connections; while the other is sorta unloved, not eating well, and has absolutely no connections. R&R please! I'll try to make the next chapter long, which shouldn't be too hard as they will have their first encounter there.

I've lightened this up a bit, taking Voldemort out of the mix changes things, but makes the plot easier for me to handle. I hope it still translates ok. I guess we'll find out!


End file.
